This is the End
As I walk
this lonely street,
my feet pacing
in a strange beat
I see a man
on a ledge
His nerves are wrecked
he's on the edge
He sees death as a release
from the pain
He doesn't know
he must refrain
For I have seen
the other side
Long ago
when I died
There was no light
no tunnel
Only darkness-
eternal darkness
If it
were hell
Then all
would be well
But it was not
I knew this thought
We are all
doomed to roam
The Earth is
our eternal home
I know nothing
of rebirth
Only that
we're trapped on Earth
No religion
can be true
So now
I beg of you
Give them up,
leave that church
For it is not
the perch
Of some all-powerful figure
It is just a building
full of lies
Giving hope
for when one dies
But hope
is gone
And we must
live on
Death isn't a release;
It is a capture
We shouldn't be held
In such rapture
With the afterlife
of all things
Guessing about
what it brings
We should try
to live our lives
And be the one
who survives.
For in the end,
there is no more
No light
no door
just
the floor
upon which
we walk
we talk
we dine
drink wine
We must do what we can
to be happy
We must be a person
before it begins to worsen
For that's all we are
nothing more
And there is
no door
Save the one
we make ourselves
So live!
live poor!
live rich!
live starved!
live full!
It matters not!
for when we feel that pull--
there is nothing
but the thought
Of happy lives
or dreary lives
But mostly......lives.
Back to Old Poetry.
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